From A to Z
by momijikk
Summary: Just a collection of mostly Style drabbles going through the letters of the alphabet. Includes other pairings and characters, however.


From A to Z

**AN**.: Hey, decided to put this here after all. Anyways, it's basically a collections of (somewhat short) drabbles centering around the pairing Stan/Kyle, or Style. It has a lot of other pairings in it, but those are ones I added as afterthoughts. I also tried to include as many of the characters that I knew as I could. This was a gift for Miimochi, and so it really is only for aesthetic pleasure. Please, read and tell me what you thought of it!

**EDIT**: Uh...I-I kind of forgot to mention that a few of these drabbles were inspired by other fics I've read. Sorry about that... I swear, I didn't mean to steal anyone's ideas. I was just inspired...  
H, L, Q, and R were the letters inspired by other fics I've seen here. The H, L, Y series was inspired by Plastic (written by Foodstamp), Q was inspired by super manako sohma's idea in Thunder, and R was inspired by Who I Run To (written by acindra). Again, I'm so, so sorry I did not mention this earlier...

**

* * *

A is for Average**

Kyle was, in all actuality, far above average.

His grades were perfection, his frame was thin and amazingly beautiful, his intellect outside of a school was something to be admired, and he even got along generally well with everyone. Well, everyone except for Cartman, but then again, no one could really get along well with Cartman.

And that ass of his. Plain **perfection**.

Compared to Kyle, Stan felt exceedingly just plain average. His grades weren't that good, he didn't have that desirable of a body, he wasn't as intelligent as Kyle was, and he wasn't all that awesome to be around. Sure, people were telling him all the time that he was a great entertainment, but he felt empty when he wasn't with his partner-in-crime.

To top it all off, he thought himself truly a bad friend to his 'Super Best Friend'.

Kyle, in fact, thought the opposite.

Stan was the best friend one could have. What he didn't have in smarts, even if he was smarter than he gave himself credit for, he made up for in people skills that Kyle just could never possess. He was amazing to be around, and he was the best at sports in their whole school.

Stan wasn't just average. Stan was **above** average.

-x-x-x-

**B is for Best**

Kyle was the best in class. The best in his entire grade. For that matter, if he was allowed to take an advanced placement test, Kyle could be the best in the whole school. The whole town!

In comparison...Stan was nothing. He was horrible at school. He hated having to sit in class the long hours; he'd rather have been playing sports. Or just hanging out with his super best friend Kyle, but when one was the best, why should he have hung out with someone who was practically nothing?

When he asked Kyle about it, Kyle actually looked shocked. "You dumbass," He laughed, giving Stan a one-armed hug. "You're my super best friend. To me, you are the best!"

Stan felt like he was on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

-x-x-x-

**C is for Calm**

If anything, Kyle was usually not very calm.

The redheaded Jew had a personality that was very much like his wild, flaming hair; a firecracker ready to explode in your face at one wrong word. A wrong look could even earn you a detonation of the ticking time bomb. As much as he witnessed it, Stan felt that the anger was the most horrible when it was directed at you. He was, time and time again, grateful that Kyle was his super best friend and didn't explode at him most of the time.

The best part of his firecracker personality, though, was the fact that he couldn't hold on to his anger for very long. Like a bomb, once he had detonated, the brunt of his fury was spent up. After one apology, he would be ready to forgive.

It was not a calm life, but still, Stan wouldn't trade it for the world.

-x-x-x-

**D is for Death**

Flowers on a grave.

That was all Kyle could think about. Flowers on a grave. Only they were wedding flowers on the grave.

Just rubbing salt into the wound.

He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear it anymore; Stan was going to marry Wendy.

He had asked Kyle to be his best man.

And though Kyle didn't want to, couldn't bear to see them joined in holy matrimony, he agreed. Because that's what super best friends did for one another. It was a way to apologize, to torment himself even more before he reached his limit.

But he had reached his limit ages ago. The two seemed so happy together, and although Kyle should have felt _happy_ that his best friend was so in love with her, it tore him to pieces on the inside.

_God_, it hurt so much...

That was why he had decided on this.

He had stopped taking his insulin. He would politely refuse to eat at the wedding, saying that he had a later matter to attend with family. (Which, in all reality, was not a lie.) Then he would stay at home, effectively killing himself while no one noticed for at least a day.

The day after the wedding, there would be a funeral.

And while Kyle felt guilty for ruining his best friend's perfect day, he felt consoled that the flowers that would be placed on his grave would be those wedding flowers.

He would condemn himself and their marriage at the same time.

-x-x-x-

**E is for Eternity**

"Hey, Kyle?" Turning to look at his raven-haired friend, the redheaded Jew gave the other his full attention as he saw how nervous and unsure his friend was. "How long is an eternity?"

As strange and out of the blue question had been, he didn't let that stump him. Besides, it was a pretty easy answer. "Hmm...Well, I don't know exactly. An eternity is a long time." Feeling the inspiration strike him, his green eyes lit up with a renewed happiness. His friend effortlessly recognized it as the joy to be able to explain something. "You know how long it will take Cartman to learn how to be nice out of the goodness of his heart, for Hell to freeze over, and for God to show his face to man?"

Even though a puzzled look had taken root on his raven-haired friend's face, the boy nodded. Past the confused look, something inside the redhead told him his friend had understood perfectly.

"Well, we'll all be waiting for a long time for those things to happen. And they don't sound like they'll ever happen, right?" At this, his friend nodded again, still unsure of where this was leading but more understanding now. "So, we'd be waiting forever. That's how long an eternity is."

Feeling accomplished, the fiery redhead beamed at his friend, who smiled appreciatively in return. After a moment, the smile faded as the redhead realized there was more to this equation.

"...Why did you want to know, Stan?"

"Because," The raven-haired boy smiled shyly, something strange for the usually outgoing child, as he took the redhead's hand in his own. A light blush adorned his face. "That's how long I want to stay with you, Kyle. For an eternity."

In surprise, embarrassment, and the feeling of being flattered, the redhead flushed in return. His grip on his best friend's hand tightened.

"Yeah. Me too, Stan."

-x-x-x-

**F is for Fear**

"Why?! Why are you so afraid?! What is there to be afraid of?!"

"There are plenty of things, Kyle!"

The firecracker Jew snorted in disbelief. "Name one."

"I could lose my spot as quarterback!!" The black-haired teen exploded, yanking on his smooth black locks in frustration. He sounded like he was at the end of his rope. "And football is all I have! I'm not smart like you, Kyle, I can't have my grades as a crutch to fall back on!!"

"You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Stan!!"

"Well, I'm not a fucking genius like you, Kyle!! I need football! I need a future!!"

"A future with someone you don't really love?! With someone you're with only because it looks good?!"

"At least I'll have a future!"

The redhead let out a frustrated growl as the other pinched the bridge of his nose. The feeling was mutual. "Stan!!" He looked at the other, green eyes overflowing with emotions. Anger. Aggravation. Love. Hurt. "...What is there to fear, really? Even if we can't have the future we tried to plan, can't you just be happy that we'll have each other...?"

The emotion was real and raw and powerful. Stan could not keep his blue eyes on the Jewish teen without feeling his resolve cracking. But why exactly was he resisting? He loved Kyle.

It was fear that held him back.

"...I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you, Kyle. That-That I'm just going to hurt our friendship, hurt you..."

"...Well, you're too late, asswipe. You've already hurt me."

"Kyle--"

"No, Stan. I can't. I can't anymore."

"But--"

"I'm not going to be with someone who's afraid to take the chance and be who he is."

_It'll hurt like hell, but..._

"I'm not living with that kind of fear. You're just going to have to deal with that."

-x-x-x-

**G is for Gay**

_"Dude, that's just gay."_

"You're right, dude. That is just gay."

"Maybe it's because it's two guys kissing?"

"AY! FAGS! Quit your making out! It's making me sick!"

"Hey, fatass, that's not cool. You can't just go interrupting others, it's not your business."

"Shut up, Jew boy."

"HEY!! Don't insult my people, you fat fuck!"

"Goes the faggy Jew."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stan knew what would come next. Anyone who knew the two would, and would take to a bomb shelter.

"Cartman, I am NOT A FAG!!"

"Sorry, Kahl, but I don't understand fag-speak."

Kyle looked absolutely venomous by this point. Luckily, means for a distraction quickly arose when one of the ones they had been talking about, Craig, rose and flipped them all off. "Shut the fuck up, you two, it's none of your fucking business, fuckers."

"Oh, you're wrong, Craig. By acting all faggy out in the open with your little fag friend, you make it our business. You make it the world's business to know that Tweek's your faggy little fuck buddy."

"Fuck off, fatass." Another trade mark wave of the finger in the wide teen's face accompanied the other's snarl. The jittery blond beside him twitched violently. "Just because I kissed him and hold his hand doesn't make us just fuck buddies."

"Saying you're in love would only make you more gay."

"So?! I don't know if you've already probably realized this, but all of South Park is pretty fucking gay."

Kyle saw Stan flinch. Cartman was too busy fuming to notice.

"AY!! You callin' me a fag, fag?!"

"You are a fag, Cartman. So fuck you, and get the fuck out of my life."

Growing red from the anger, Cartman watched furiously as Craig flipped the group off once more and lead a spazzing Tweek away. As Cartman began to sputter and stomp away, more frazzled than Kyle had initially though, Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away to some secluded part of the school. Kenny would have made some sort of protest, wanting to watch, but was just then knocked into a broken part of the school's fence by someone who was rushing by, and was killed.

"Stan?! The fuck?!" Kyle attempted as soon as Stan had shoved him into the boy's bathroom and had made sure it was deserted enough. "Why do we have to talk in a bathroom?"

"Kyle." It was such a simple and small phrase, but with it, Kyle could always tell what exactly Stan meant with it. Calm down. I care about you. It will be all right. For the moment, it was somewhere in-between showing care and Shut up. So Kyle placed a stopper on his anger and waited for an explanation. "...Craig's right, you know. Most of South Park...Is gay."

Hesitant silence. Kyle waited for his friend to continue.

"...And I am too."

"Bullshit, Stan." Kyle immediately replied, arms folded across his chest. "What about all that time with Wendy?"

"Well...Even then." Stan persisted, taking an uncomfortable step towards Kyle. Determined to call him on his bluff, or even to just help him back to his right mind, Kyle stayed motionless. "I always...I was always more concerned about you. That's kind of why she broke up with me. Because I cared about you too much."

"...Like how?"

"Like, whenever you got sick, I would blow her off just to hang out with you. And whenever you can't sleep, I have trouble sleeping. You always call me in the morning to tell me what you dreamed, and I always call you at night to wish you a good night. And I feel like I **need** you by my side or I'll be unable to keep living. Plus...I've kinda been getting this fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever I'm near you."

"...Dude, that's gay."

"What did I say, Kyle?"

To that, Kyle had no reply. It was true; he had admitted that he was gay earlier.

But what exactly did that mean?

One look into those expansive blue eyes was all he needed for an explanation. They were far too in tune with one another. "Kyle...I love you."

Kyle was silent for a moment. "...That's gay." He finally concluded, verdict unchangeable. Stan hung his head hopelessly, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "...But..." Stan's head snapped up, hopeful that Kyle would agree. "That's how I feel too."

-x-x-x-

**H is for Hollow** (I)

Kyle had, in his adult years, turned into a hollow shell of a person. Everything was run by a set schedule. No excuses for tardiness were allowed. All of his children obeyed the plan, because that was what they were taught. Even Wendy was a slave to the schedule to a point.

It absolutely broke Stan's heart.

The metaphor Kenny had used knowingly and Butters unknowingly fit perfectly to the letter. No matter how hard they thought, and despite how well they had both known him, they could think of nothing that they could fill his cupcake with.

And so it had remained hollow. Empty.

Stan wanted that to change.

But Kyle was married. To Wendy. He had kids.

Somewhere inside, he had to have been happy.

And Stan could not do anything if Kyle was happy. Hell, he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it anyways.

Kyle was hollow, and Stan could only watch and wait until some miracle could stop that.

And Stan knew he was not that miracle.

-x-x-x-

**I is for Innocent**

Butters was just so...Innocent.

It was a different kind of innocence than Pip, Tweek, or Kyle had. Pip had that faked innocence which he clung onto as a way to keep himself from breaking, Tweek had a partial innocence that was the sheltered youth kind, while Kyle was innocent in that he would believe that everyone had some good in them. That was why he went along with what Cartman said most of the time.

Oh no. Butters was an entirely different kind of innocent.

He had that innocence that could imply something horrible, at least as far as Kenny's perverted mind could see, and not mean a single bit of it.

Sure, Kyle's innocence was enjoyed thoroughly by Stan, Pip's was exploited by Damien, and Tweek's was adored by Craig, no matter how much any of these acts were denied whole-heartedly by both parties. Kenny could see it. His eyes had been opened wide after he had lost his innocence.

No one found Butters' innocence even remotely appealing. Everyone found it quite annoying, actually.

Everyone except Kenny.

Kenny found that innocence to be just so...Alluring.

Maybe it was because of how he saw the perverted and dirty side to everything, but he liked Butters a lot because of that innocence. And because it was just so undeniably Butters.

That was hot.

For some unknown reason, that innocence just appealed to the perverted orange-hooded teen in every way that nothing else could quite manage to. Maybe it was the promise of being able to taint that innocence. Perhaps it was because the other blond was his exact opposite, and opposites attracted each other.

He knew one thing; he was going to get that innocence.

-x-x-x-

**J is for Joker**

Every time he wasn't with her, Wendy was with Cartman.

Stan noticed this after Kyle had admitted to him that he learned Cartman had a crush on Wendy. As much of a joker and as an amazing tease both Kyle and Cartman were, Stan had to believe him when it came to matters like this. Wendy was his girlfriend, and that fatass thought he could annoy her all he wanted? Like Stan would let him.

But Cartman pestered her and made her laugh. When he bugged her, it was to complain that her outfit matched too well or that she was too pretty for a 'dirty hippie' boyfriend like Stan. He would honor her with the privilege of winning more fights with him when they had spats than anyone else.

It really all made Stan's head reel.

And when Wendy broke up with Stan again, Kyle being there to catch his fall, Cartman saw it as his chance to snag her heart.

When he fell for Kyle and Wendy for Cartman, he wondered who the real joker of their life was.

-x-x-x-

**K is for Keep**

When you found something you want, you usually wanted to keep it.

That is what Kyle wanted. He wanted to keep his friendship with Stan. He didn't want to keep the fluttering feeling in his stomach every time he saw the other's radiant smile or whenever they would brush shoulders, legs, or any other part of his body, but he would hang onto it dearly because it dealt with Stan.

Damien kept Pip once he had decided to take the other from South Park for good. Craig would keep Tweek with him, safe from the dangers of the world and his own paranoia. Kenny kept Butters innocent, Clyde kept Bebe once he was able to snag her, Wendy kept playing coy with Cartman, not quite allowing him to have her but also wanting him to have her.

And Stan kept Kyle as his best friend. His 'super best friend'.

Kyle didn't think that his charade would last long against his friend's merciless teasing taunting. Stan didn't even know that he was being so irresistible, but the sad fact was that Kyle was hopelessly in love with him.

And he had to keep it under wraps, because he wanted to keep Stan.

He would go to any cost to keep Stan.

-x-x-x-

**L is for Listen** (II)

"Kyle has to listen to you at some point, because you two would never quite be whole without the other."

But he hates me...Kyle hates me.

"No, he doesn't. You should see how lost he is sometimes without you. He's empty, you know, without you. He's just a hollow shell of a person without his other half, his soul mate, by his side."

Not anymore...Not his soul mate any longer...

Too much time has gone by with too much hurt.

"...Before you can make him listen to you, you need to listen to me. You can never stop being soul mates. And getting him to listen is not going to be easy. I can tell you the truth; you're going to have to work at it. He won't listen to you at first. But I know he will. Because it's you, Stan. And no matter how hard he tries, he can't keep ignoring you forever."

...

"Of course, I don't see why he would want to keep ignoring you. I mean, I know you've hit your sore spots before, but you've always made it through those rough spots. What makes this one so different?"

He won't forgive me...The crime's too great...

He married Wendy.

"Like that makes a big difference."

...

"...Okay, maybe that does make a small difference. He's still going to end up listening to you."

...

Why would he?

"Because he's Kyle, and you're Stan, and one of you can't exist indefinitely without the other."

-x-x-x-

**M is for Mortal**

Pip was, just as every single other person on this earth was, inevitably, simply mortal.

This angered Damien more than he was willing to admit.

He looked around, and all he could see were pathetic examples of mortals everywhere. Some were even bold enough to claim what he could not have in front of him. Others existed merely just to torture him and others; it was more annoying for him than anything else. And those who hurt **his** Pip were severely schooled in how big of a mistake that was.

But why was that innocent, pure little boy **his**?

Everywhere Damien looked, there were others who were inconsequential. Some more than others, but there were even some who were not so much.

Especially that duo, Stan and Kyle.

The two had hurt his Pip before, but now they wouldn't dare.

Besides, that, they seemed far too busy to care about that now anyways. Far too busy with one another.

He could see them now from where he stood. Leaning against a tree, sharing long, deep kisses, and keeping in contact with one another however possible. They wouldn't allow it if they couldn't have contact with one another. The touches didn't even have to be interesting; a rub on the arm, a lace of the fingers, a still hand on the back, a caress of the cheek...

_Disgusting_.

Damien shivered at the sight. It truly was just a sickening display of affections. It was so vile that he had to turn away from the sight.

And still...

There was a part of him that wanted to know what it felt like to do these things with such a mortal.

But that was all Pip would ever remain.

Simply, utterly, and such an easily shattered mortal.

How his play things were so breakable...

-x-x-x-

**N is for Nothing**

Kyle was his everything.

He may have taken Stan for granted, but Stan knew that without Kyle, he'd be some hollow void of nothing.

And everyone knew it.

Craig, Tweek, Clyde, and Token all knew it. Pip and Damien knew. Kenny knew (and was very supportive). Cartman knew subconsciously. Bebe and Red could see it. Ike knew it for goodness sakes. Hell, even Wendy could see.

Everyone knew.

Everyone that is, except for Kyle.

Kyle could just be so blind sometimes! He was a genius, but he couldn't see an inch in front if his nose when it came to thinks like this. That just made Stan overly frustrated most of the time.

But still, Kyle was his everything, and without him, Stan would be nothing.

Out of fear of nothing, Stan would continue to wait until he could open Kyle's eyes.

He'd wait forever for his world to banish that nothing.

-x-x-x-

**O is for Open**

Damien loved to be in control. Pip loved to have Damien talk to him.

They treated each other, mostly, as equals in a place devoid of common courtesy.

It was also a fill-in for having someone else in the world.

Pip had seen everyone eventually pair off, be it good or not to the rest of the town. Stan had Kyle, Wendy accepted Cartman, Kenny had won Butters, Craig protected Tweek, Clyde had scored Bebe, and even the mysterious Christophe (the French scum) had someone waiting for his return to speak of.

As much as he would have liked, Pip did not have Damien. At least, not in the way he would have liked.

Blushing furiously at the thoughts, he tried to waive them off by taking a sip of his tea and checking the ticking wall clock. Ten minutes past. Damien was supposed to have been there fifteen minutes ago.

"Well, it's Damien." Pip sighed to himself as he placed the tea cup back on its place on a saucer. Leaning back a little into the couch he was sitting on, he put the cup and saucer on the very edge of the coffee table. "He arrives whenever he wants, and it doesn't matter whether he's early or late. It's not like I give a damn if he comes or not."

"Heh. If that's the case..."

The blond's head shot up to see the black-haired anti-Christ leaning against the doorframe, a smug smirk on his lips. "D-Damien!"

He let out a low chuckle as he pushed himself off of the frame and shoved his hands into his pant pockets. His voice had really deepened with his age. "I guess since I'm not wanted here, I'll just have to find some other poor soul to torture..."

"Wait, Damien, please!" Although he felt extremely weak and open for attack, Pip could not help himself from pleading to Damien not to leave. All efforts to appear tough were quickly dissolving around him. "I'm actually quite glad you're here. Come in, make yourself at home."

As if he would ever need an invitation to come in. It was nice to feel like one had some amount of control over the situation, however illusionary it was.

Damien complied and sat right up next to Pip, allowing their thighs to touch. The blush which he had previously dispelled returned immediately when he felt the point of contact. Smirking wider, Damien reached a mischievous hand stealthily over to rest it very near to the inside of the other's thigh, also dangerously near his groin. It was a little too close for comfort.

"D-Damien, what are you doing?!"

"Making myself at home." Quicker than a flash, he stuck his hand all the way in-between Pip's thighs and opened his legs, climbing on top of his prey before Pip had any time to recollect himself after a shocked gasp. The smirk would not leave his face, and that only made a strange sensation of warmth pool into the blond's stomach, and then lower. Damien was sure to have noticed the increase of size of the bulge in his shorts. He leaned in devilishly, allowing his breath to tickle and tease the sensitive skin of Pip's neck; Pip had to swallow back a moan of pure pleasure. "And I love it when you're as open to me as you are now...Philip."

This was what he had wanted. He couldn't fully suppress the sound of pleasure that escaped from the back of his throat, smiling slightly as the feeling intensified when he received a grind from Damien in return. It was a secret, since almost no one called him by his name anyways, but of course Damien would find out. Pip loved it when someone called him by his real name, and not that horrid nickname all of the other kids gave him because they hated him.

And so, Pip would open himself to Damien, out of love, out of need, and because that was what Damien loved the most about him.

-x-x-x-

**P is for Patience**

All Wendy needed was a little patience, no matter how much red she began to see. Despite how difficult that sounded, it was not so hard for someone with as much temperance as she had. With her persistence and restraint, she could make this work.

After all, Kenny was able to snag Bebe, Craig could overpower Clyde, and Gregory was able to admit that he loved Christophe. And if someone like Damien could snag someone like Pip, then she could most definitely tame the being known as Eric Cartman.

Eric Cartman.

...But why did it have to be Eric Cartman? He was everything that she wasn't, meaning cruel, manipulative, competitive, needlessly complicated and violent, and all around not a good person. How could she ever like that?!

No, she was supposed to like men like Stan, who were the general good, kind-hearted, amazingly loving boyfriend. Unfortunately, she had to break up with him because he was far too in love with his best friend, Kyle.

At least, that was the excuse she used to herself over and over.

The real reason was that she was able to get her way with him too easily for her liking. She liked a challenge, and no matter how nice of a boyfriend Stan really was, she wanted to fight in order to get her way.

That was why she found Eric Cartman very attractive.

And if Stan had enough patience to wait for Kyle, then she certainly had enough to lure in the ever-popular Eric Cartman. And she would have the patience to turn him into a better man while keeping him competitive enough to keep her satisfied.

She was Wendy Testaburger, and she knew she had the tenacity.

-x-x-x-

**Q is for Quiet**

Moody and ready to murder something, Christophe drummed his fingers against his leg as he glared at the blond sitting across from him. They were both sitting on the floor of the other boy's room and it was very, very dark outside. The dark brown-haired digger could already feel a prickling uneasiness as the dark rain clouds neared menacingly, a few flashes of lightning already visible, but not yet audible.

He could sense the storm coming to disturb his quiet.

Feeling overly ridiculous as he thought it over, the trained assassin knew that he was no pushover or pussy when it came to harsh situations. He could handle blood and gore as well as he could handle dealing out death. He was never frightened, and whatever he used to fear, he learned to hate with a burning passion. No matter the situation, he could handle the surprise so well that he could momentarily befuddle an enemy into uselessness, allowing him the chance he needed to take that other out.

However, Christophe was scared shitless of thunder storms.

Thunder was unpredictable. After the lightning struck, it was almost always impossible to tell when the crashing booms would arrive, and how powerful they would feel and sound.

This made the great mercenary feel like a pussy.

He had to charge on through, though, because he was Christophe, the Mole, the greatest hit man for hire out there. He was the Mole, a man who knew no fear.

The fear was with good reason. The Mole hated not being able to predict when something would strike, and, as a mole, he was naturally afraid of the skies above and the raging torrents they could bring.

He just really hated feeling like a pussy. He was not some Stan and Kyle, who couldn't even fucking breathe without the other one there for support. He could survive on his own.

If only that English bastard was not around, so he could brace himself properly!!

Unfortunately, Gregory remained, smiling as the mole's face grew paler and paler; he would be smoking if it wasn't for the fact that the blond's mother hated the smell of smoke. And Christophe would never do anything to piss off Gregory's mother, because she was too nice a person, and he risked not being able to see her son again if he did.

Fucking choices. Fucking damn choices that could lead to too many bad endings.

"What's wrong, Christophe?" The silky smile spreading across the blond's face was not a good sign. It was never a good sign when he started to want to be persuasive. "Feeling jittery without much to do?"

"Fuck off, you piece of sheet."

Christophe was in no mood for joking. Still, Gregory chuckled light-heartedly, convinced he would be able to change the other's tune. The storm was just getting nearer and nearer. "Maybe I should give you something to do, then. You'll have to remember to thank me later for this...Christophe."

His lips were occupied the moment the first low rumblings came rolling forth, and somehow, the grungy man had missed them. As the storm picked up, so did Gregory's passion, and Christophe was deaf to the storm happening outside.

He had finally, finally reached his own kind of peace and quiet in the middle of the storm.

That didn't mean he would thank Gregory, as storms would now bring a different connotation with them.

-x-x-x-

**R is for Rain**

It was pouring outside.

It was three in the morning and it was pouring outside.

Why the redhead was awake at this hour, he wasn't sure, but he was awake, and a deep sense of dread was coursing through his entire body.

Without knowing why or with any consent of his consciousness, he climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, dead to everything else around him. He could hear something deep inside of him screaming for help, for anyone to come find him. No, not anyone; him.

It was calling out to him.

He could hear the voice, muffled by emotions, agonizing throughout his mind as he neared his front door. It was reaching out to him, desperately wanting him, needing him fiercely. He wanted to reach back, to envelop it, to answer its call. He had to. It was...

The moment his hand came in contact with the door knob, he had finally woken up. Blinking, he looked around, unsure of why he was there. He could still feel that dread rooted inside of him, as well as the need to open the door, but the voice was gone. He wondered if he had simply imagined it calling to him.

Still, the creeping dread would not cease, and so silently, slowly, he turned the door handle, soundlessly unlocking the door, then pulled open with much care. The door didn't make a single sound. All he could hear was the pounding rain.

It was pouring outside, but that didn't even remotely catch Kyle's eye. What he did see was the black-haired boy standing on the porch, dripping wet, and blue eyes hollow, broken inside.

That was why he had felt it.

Immediately, he grabbed the other and pulled him into an embrace, feeling all the pain that his friend was also feeling at the time. He held him for a long while, not caring that his pajamas were getting wet as well, before ushering the other inside by grabbing his hand and gently, kindly, getting him to walk in the few steps into the house.

Once the door was closed, Kyle could find it appropriate to dash off in order to get a few towels, and then return as quickly as possible so as to waste as little time as he could. Luckily, the other had not moved an inch, and continued to stare blankly at the floor beneath his feet. Biting his lip worriedly, Kyle began to towel off his friend carefully, starting with his sopping hair. He would get yelled at for the mess later, but that was later. Right now, Stan was more important.

"...Stan...?" Trying to speak was a bad thing, as he found that his throat was parched and his tongue was sticking uncomfortably to the roof of his mouth. Still, he wanted the other to know that everything would be okay, and after clearing his throat as quietly as he could, tried again. Besides that, he wanted to see if the other would respond at all in the broken state he was in. "...Stan, it's me, Kyle. Are you all right? What happened to you...?"

Stan, at least, knew it was Kyle. He blinked slowly once, staring without recognition at his friend, then leaned almost unnoticeably into the other's massaging hands, keeping his eyes closed. Kyle hoped he wouldn't fall asleep like that.

After doing his best with the other's hair, Kyle realized that he would need to get Stan some dry clothes. Which meant that he would have to leave again, even if neither wanted him to; he was sure that, even though in a broken state, Stan wouldn't want to be left alone.

A sudden idea striking him, Kyle grabbed his friend's hand again and placed the other hand on his cheek so he could look into Stan's hollow blue eyes. A gut-wrenching pain sliced through his being, but he held strong. "Stan...I'm going to take you up to my room, okay? So I can get you into some dry clothes. Is that all right?"

This time, as Stan blinked once very slowly, he seemed to tilt his head down, then back up, like he was controlling his eyelids with his head motions. Kyle would take that as a yes.

Getting Stan up the stairs wasn't as much of a problem as Kyle had initially thought, luckily. All it took was some gently pleading and the hold he had on the other's hand, and soon the empty shell was in his room. Now, however, Kyle had to act fast and attempt something fairly embarrassing.

He had to strip Stan.

Blushing lightly at the thought, he started with the easiest thing, the shirt. Gingerly, gently, he took hold of the hem of the shirt, glancing up nervously at his friend. Stan hadn't even flinched. By this point, though, he deserved some explanation for why his best friend was stripping him.

Gulping thickly, Kyle had to straighten out his thoughts before he could proceed. "S-Stan? I, uh, I have to take your shirt off now, so I can get you a dry one. Would that be all right...?"

Compliantly, after a few minutes of silence, Stan slowly raised his arms so that slipping the shirt off would be much easier. Thankful that he had some of Stan's clothes in his room and had brought the dry towel along as well, Kyle slipped the soaked long-sleeved shirt off his friend's head and laid it down on the damp towel. He toweled his friend's torso off first before realizing he had to take off his best friend's pants and underwear.

Again, his face heated up to a bright red color. He would not think about it that way. This was his best friend. He had to help his best friend who needed him more than anything right now.

That thought helped. Reigning in his raging hormones, he lightly placed his hands on his friend's hips, realizing with dread that they were jeans. _Fuck_. "...Stan? I-I have to take off your pants now...Okay Stan? Okay...?"

Stan merely blinked again, watching with hollow eyes as Kyle knelt down on his knees and became level with his friend's crotch. It was right there, in front of him, only inches away. Trying not to think about it that way, while failing and blushing furiously, he reached up, unbuttoned and unzipped his friend's pants. Again, Stan didn't even flinch. Taking that as a form of encouragement, Kyle quickly and fluidly slipped off both pants and underwear and plopped them down on top of his shirt. As fast as he could manage, he toweled off his friend's bottom half and grabbed Stan's dry clothes, throwing the underwear at his friend first.

Stan caught the boxers and looked at them without really seeing before slowly pulling them on robotically, much to Kyle's relief. With that out of the way, Kyle could get his mind out of his groin and to helping his friend who needed him.

Kyle was able to slip on Stan's shirt easily, then his pants by getting him to sit down on the bed first, then stand up as he pulled them on the rest of the way. It no longer really felt awkward to him, thankfully. "Okay, Stan, I have to hang up your wet clothes now. I'll be back in just a sec."

As he turned to leave, a hand shot out and caught the back of his shirt, holding on with an unexpectedly iron grip. Whirling around, Kyle could see that it was Stan, staring at the floor and hiding his eyes under his black bangs. Immediately, green eyes softened at the sight. Even though no words were spoken, Kyle knew exactly what his friend was pleading; he didn't want Kyle to leave him.

With a single worried glance at the pile of drenched clothing, Kyle agreed, and slipped onto the bed beside his best friend. After a moment, Stan laid down and Kyle right beside him, pulling the blankets around them both and Stan closer to him at the same time. He realized just how cold Stan was, and wrapped his arms around his friend, offering up his warmth.

It didn't matter if they were eighteen and too old for sleepovers, Stan needed him right now. And Kyle would do anything to make sure that his friend would be okay.

All that remained was their in-synch breathing and the rain pounding on the house.

Just as he was drifting into the deep recesses of slumber, Kyle could vaguely feel something shifting beside him, out of his protective grip. Then a weight was lowered slowly over him, not suffocating or even discomforting. This being and him simply fit together perfectly.

When he opened his eyes to inspect, he met the dead, hollow gaze of Stan's bright blue eyes, with something else lingering in the back. What it was, Kyle was not sure; hope? Love? Lust? Each suggestion was as ridiculous as the one before. The look could only mean one thing; heartbreak.

Kyle hadn't been paying attention; slightly damp lips caressed against his smooth, delicate ones, and he melted into the kiss. It was slow, cautious, almost kind and loving, but not quite. It held passion at bay, for there was almost none to be found in the hollow shell.

But passion burned anyway.

Breaking off from the kiss, both left breathless, Stan traveled down Kyle's jaw line until reaching his neck, which he nipped and sucked on teasingly. His hands were roving up and down Kyle's sides, brushing against his hips and chest. The sensations were enough to draw out a long suppressed moan from the back of the redhead's throat and to lift his hips up into Stan's above him, receiving a low groan of pleasure in return.

No...

No, no, no...

Something wasn't right...

This shouldn't be happening...

Kyle's head was swimming with sensations, all of them deriving from absolute pleasure, but his rationality could speak over all of the other voices.

As much as he was enjoying it, it wasn't right. Not right now, he couldn't do this, not right now.

Stan was far too hollow.

As much as it pained him, Kyle took hold of both of Stan's wandering hands and pushed him away lightly, so he could look into those dead blue eyes as he said this. He could already feel the tears pulsating behind his green ones. "Stan...I can't let you do this. It's not right. You can't do this. Not now."

His voice was a little broken from the emotion, but his friend understood it all the same. Now emotion flitted across his face; pain.

And it was painful. But it was also the right thing to do. "I'm sorry, Stan...But it can't be right now...Not yet."

Slowly, carefully, Stan sunk onto Kyle's shoulder, trembling slightly. He allowed Kyle to hug onto him again, just as he allowed his best friend to stroke through his hair soothingly. Kyle didn't even say anything as he felt something wet dripping through his shoulder.

It was raining. Pouring, in fact.

Both inside and out.

-x-x-x-

**S is for Simple**

The reason was a mystery, but the caffeinated drink made him much calmer than he actually was. He was never seen without a mug of the stuff, always taken black, because it was his sense of calm, his moment of serenity, where everything in the world wasn't as scary as it really was.

That was why he felt so serene in his parent's coffee shop, because he had his coffee, one of the very few things he could calm down for, and he was sitting across from one of the other few things that could calm him, but that was a secret.

Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak sat across from each other, enjoying one another's company as best as they could. Tweek sipped contemplatively on his coffee as Craig raved and ranted about recent events that meant nothing to the blond. It was all recited with that even, monotone tone of voice, but Tweek had been the other's friend for so long he could actually hear the emotions through the monotone.

"...I don't understand why Clyde's so worked up over it. I mean, it's just Kenny and Bebe. It's not like it's a big deal. It's just like how everyone knows that Damien's fucking Pip--"

"He's WHAT?!" The easily over excited blond could not stop himself from interrupting, twitching violently at this crude bit of news. He merely received an annoyed and blank stare from Craig. "...Nngh!! S-Sorry, Craig. I, I didn't expect - GAH! - that. Oh, Jeezus!!"

The blond tugged on his hair, attempting to calm himself down and failing miserably. When the dark-haired teen across from him actually slid his mug of coffee he had set down closer to his reach, Tweek was able to visibly calm down some. He thought he saw the smallest trace of a smile on the other, but it was quickly wiped away before it could further spread.

That was how Craig was; emotionless from repressing these feelings. Tweek wondered why sadly as he sipped the caffeinated drink he had picked up from the table. Luckily, the blue and green eyed teen resumed his earlier ranting point.

"...Anyways, Pip and Damien are screwing each other, I'm sure that Cartman's fucking after that fucking annoying little hick kid, which gives me every right to call him a fag, and Stan's lusting after Kyle."

"WHAT?!" Again, Tweek couldn't help vocalize his surprise, this time banging his palms down on the table. Craig winced at the noise. A few customers around them shifted in annoyance, a table seating Stan and Kyle included. Tugging furiously at the horribly buttoned shirt, the blond's brown eyes darted from side to side worriedly, looking like his paranoia was settling in. "Jesus Christ, Craig, I can't take much more of this! Nngh! S-Stan and Kyle are, like, best friends though, AREN'T THEY?! There HAS to be some mix up, GAH! Because that's just WAY TOO TWISTED!!"

By Craig's annoyed glare, Tweek could see that he was overreacting a little. He twitched and lowered his head apologetically. "It only gets worse from there. Thing is, he can't really do anything with Kyle since Kyle wants to fucking bone me."

This, Tweek did not freak out at, generally surprising the bi-colored eyed teen. The blond merely sat, contemplatively looking into his mug of coffee, not seeming to register much else. A brief, crazy thought flew across Craig's mind (_'What if he wants to be with Kyle?'_) before easily dissipating. Nothing was wrong with the other. It was just the shock of learning about the steadily increasing gay levels in South Park. That was all.

"...You-You don't want to-to b-bone him back...Do you?"

Was that what had him so worried. Rolling his eyes and shuddering at the very thought of it, he closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, of course not. I still hate those fuckers for fucking causing all the shit that happens around here."

With that said, Craig took the moment to lean into visibility for a second and flip both Kyle and Stan off. Kyle quickly averted his eyes, blushing lightly, while Stan looked in-between furious and miserable. He even flipped Craig off back, to which the bi-colored eyed teen chuckled dryly at. Throughout it all, Tweek remained silent and watchful.

Craig didn't recognize the look in his brown eyes.

"O-Oh...Okay."

Craig blinked blankly. There was something burningly wrong in the atmosphere of the conversation. Something Tweek saw as wrong.

But what could it have been...?

"C'mon, Tweekers, what's wrong?" Averting his gaze for a moment, Craig made sure to stare directly into Tweek's brown eyes. He even had to take hold of the other's chin and turn his shaking head towards him. Tweek twitched and colored slightly, before and after he grabbed the other's chin. "You're much more calm that usual. Fuck, if anything's wrong, you know you can tell me about it..."

_We're friends, right?_

The unasked question hung deep in the air, and Craig wasn't sure if Tweek could catch it. He wasn't sure why it had been placed there at all.

But, lately, Tweek had been acting stranger than usual. And the behavior was beginning to worry and tick Craig off.

"...Hah-How come...You don't like coffee, Craig...?"

Avoidance of the question with another inquiry. Or, perhaps it was answering the question in a different way.

Stupid complex reasoning. Why couldn't things be simpler?

"I don't necessarily hate it...I just don't like it all that much. It's not my favorite thing in the world."

"Oh...I see..."

"...So, anything wrong?"

"N-No, why would you thin - Nngh! - that, Craig?"

"Because you're not acting quite right."  
"Wha-What do you mean? This is how I normally act!! Gawd, this is WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE!!"

"...Tweekers, I'm your friend. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Finally unable to stand it any longer, Tweek pulled away, holding his coffee close to him and twitching horribly with every passing moment. It was now or never.

"What's been up your ass?"

A more eloquent way to put it would have been nice, but this was Craig. Tweek smiled. He wouldn't have expected anything else. "...I-It's just...Well, you see...It ha-happened when...I, uh, GAH!"

Expression flat-lining, Craig placed his face into his palm in aggravation. Of course. Getting a straight answer from Tweek was never simple. Tweek was just a very complex person with many far and complicated answers. It was directly opposed to Craig's simpleness.

"Tweek."

"Okay, okay!" Twitching again, trembling in fear, Tweek squeezed his eyes shut as he clenched onto his mug of coffee for dear life. With Tweek, it was always a battle just saying something straight forward. "W-Well...ImaybethinkthatIloveyoulike**love**loveyouBUTDON'TFREAKOUTONMEOKAY?! I-I just kinda, well, maybe think that it's really not a joke or - GAH! - anything, that I actually mean it, because OKAY I KNOW I TRIED TO STOP IT BUT I COULDN'T!! It just kept growing and growing like a-a virus and GAH!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!! THIS IS JUST WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE!!!"

By this point, Craig didn't care how much of a scene the spazzing blond was making. They could all just fuck off. All that mattered, even past the aggravation, was what Tweek had been spewing out.

He loved him...?

Craig had not been expecting a blow like that. Tweek really loved him?

The only thing viewable on the dark-haired teen's face was shock. He could see this causing Tweek to further twist into himself and jerk in his uncomfortable and nervously neurotic way.

Craig couldn't help the light blush adorning his cheeks, though he shouted accusingly at himself in his head for it.

Nothing else really did matter. Everything had finally become...

Simple.

With no further hesitation, Craig half-stood from where he was seated and pulled Tweek up by grabbing the front of his horribly buttoned shirt and into a kiss. Around them, the few customers shifted uneasily again, and Kyle looked on with downright heart break, flabbergasted, but Craig could care less. They could all go fuck themselves.

Right now, he was with Tweek.

Tweek's brown eyes widened at first from the shock, then, slowly, closed as Craig deepened the kiss, every fiber of his being shouting out for joy. He didn't even realize that he had been calmed down to an alarming point, and when Craig pulled away, more smirking than smiling, Tweek plopped back down in his chair and held his cup of coffee closer, bright red in embarrassment but at least not freaking out.

That was always a good sign.

"...You dumbass." Looking up at the spoken words, Tweek saw that Craig was standing up now. Inwardly, Tweek panicked for a second before noticing Craig was motioning for him to follow. He hurriedly got up quickly and clumsily. "You didn't think that I'd return those feelings, did you?"

Tweek let out a shaky laugh as Craig wrapped an arm around his shoulder, the two exiting the small coffee shop and into the freeze of the night. Like every other night in South Park, it was cold as hell.

And yet, both teens still felt warm within each other's company.

In the end, everything was just simply complex.

Craig would rather brave that than anything else.

-x-x-x-

**T is for Twisted**

This was wrong. _SO_ wrong.

And yet...

It felt so _right_.

Utterly, horribly, undeniably _twisted_.

That was what he thought, that was what had happened. His view on everything had just been horribly twisted. There was nothing he could do to stop it. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it. It would always have been this way, it always would be this way.

Still, he wanted it so badly. Searing waves of lust lapped at his being, enticing him to take what was there. To go ahead and screw everything up for one chance. To take what was his, what would always be his, and just get everything over with as soon as possible.

But reason held him back.

This was his _super best friend_ he was after. And he already had a girlfriend.

It was all just so...

_Twisted_.

And there was no turning back now.

-x-x-x-

**U is for Underage**

"Stan..."

"What?"

"S-Stan..."

"What? What is i-it, dude?"

"D-Don't you think we're...A little underage for th-this?"

"...Dude, we're...Sixteen. We only have...Two more years until we're legal age. And besides...It's not like I haven't done this before."

"Wh-What?? With who?!"

"W-Well, you know, when we were eight...?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"That's when-n. With Wendy."

"...Oh."

"Y-Yeah."

"...When you were eight?!"

"Dude, we did everything when we were eight."

"...Ah."

"Yup. And besides, Damien and Pip were involved way before that, too."

"They were?"

"Yeah. That's why Pip was so pissed off when Damien actually came back."

"...Why do you know that??"

"Got stuck in a class with him. Turns out, he thinks of me as a kind-of friend."

"Oh...I-ah! S-Stan..."

"Sh-Shit. Did it hurt?"

"N-No, it feels go-good..."

"Oh...Okay. Guess I'll keep doing it, then."

"St-Stan...I love you..."

"I love you too, Ky..."

-x-x-x-

**V is for Veil**

"Hey, Gerald, how've you been?"

"Oh, hey, Randy! I've been doing well, thanks for asking. Come on, sit down and join me, the game's about to start! Here, let me get you a beer, too."

"Thanks, Gerald. I appreciate it."

_...The veil flickers..._

"...Gerald, have you ever stopped to think about how our sons act?"

"Why, Randy, I just thought they were good friends! Kyle and Stan are good boys! Why, is there something you've noticed?"

"Well, it's just that, if they continue to be that close, people are going to really think they're 'funny'. They want to go to the same college, and it's like they can't even consider hanging out with their other friends."

"...I see what you mean."

"Well, I'm glad it isn't just--"

"But Randy, do you want to take that away from them? That kind of friendship isn't easy to come by, and they have been together since they were only children, and--"

"That's just it, Gerald. They're already together!"

_The veil has been lifted._

"...What?"

"I saw them, in Stan's room, kissing! My son can't be gay, Gerald! This is all your Kyle's fault!"

"My Kyle? Randy, calm down!"

"How can I be calm?! My son's a queer, a fag!!"

"He still enjoys football, doesn't he?"

"...Well...Yes."

"Then nothing about him has changed. Stan's still Stan, and Kyle's still Kyle. What does it matter who they like?"

"...You already knew, didn't you?"

"Randy, it's all going to be okay. Stan and Kyle are good kids."

"..."

_The veil is just a piece of cloth._

"...I suppose...You're right, Gerald."

"See? Don't worry so much about it, Randy. Let's just enjoy the game."

"...Okay."

-x-x-x-

**W is for Window**

It was a single bedroom window.

It was nothing fancy, just a plain and simple window. There was nothing special about the blinds that kept the sun's rays from entering, nor was there anything special about the room whom it belonged to.

It was just a simple bedroom window.

But it made all the difference just the way it was.

This window belonged to the room of Stanly Marsh. It was an undeclared entrance for the super best friend of the room's owner to sneak in at whatever time of the night and just hang out. It was a special portal through which only a few had ever really paid attention to as an opening.

Those few included only Stan and Kyle themselves.

With the window there, it was assured that Kyle would always be welcome over in the Marsh residence. Stan's parents didn't even have to know that he had been there that night.

Most of the time, they didn't know.

The window gained more importance as the two boys grew up and were able to keep their friendship no matter what they weathered together.

Still, it was only a window after all.

What mattered was that it existed and it was a way to get in. It was a way to keep their friendship alive through all of the good and bad times, to evoke the powers of that friendship through deep trouble.

What mattered was that it was their window and no one elses'.

-x-x-x-

**X is for X-Ray**

"Agh!!"

"Kyle!!"

"I-I think it's broken..."

Looking at how the arm was twisted after the other boy's fall, the raven-haired eight-year-old had to agree. Bright blue eyes opening wide, the boy was unsure of what to do at first. What to do first, to be more specific. Irately, the red-headed child glared up at his friend, green eyes watering from the pain, demanding silently that action be taken that instant.

Nodding frantically, the boy in the red poof ball hat ran off, past the laughing fat fuck and past the whooping orange-hooded boy, all the way to his own house. Kyle needed help. He had to help Kyle.

The moment his mother opened the door, he burst out, panting and tired but willing to go on because his super best friend was in trouble. "Kyle...His arm...I-I think it was broken...We need help...!"

Immediately, action was taken, and Stan rushed back to his friend in need. Kyle was sitting up, looking mystified by his broken arm. He stayed with the other until the ambulance arrived. He was even allowed to ride in the ambulance with his friend.

He was not allowed to go into the X-Ray room to help comfort his friend, however.

"Dude, chill. It's just an X-Ray."

Kyle seemed highly unbothered by it all.

"But what if something goes wrong? What if you get hurt worse??"

"You worry too much, Stan."

It was true.

Kyle's arm was broken and had to be put in a cast. A cast which he vowed to never let Cartman sign.

Stan secretly relished in the fact that he was able to sign it first.

So maybe X-Ray's weren't as dangerous as the media made them out to be.

-x-x-x-

**Y is for Yes** (III)

"...What do you want?"

_I want to talk to Kyle._

"Why? Everything's...Everything's fine just the way it is. You don't need to do this, Stan..."

_I want to._

"Why...?"

_...Because I can't live without him._

_Without him..._

_I'm empty._

"...I really have no choice, do I?"

_You have a choice. I just wish I could talk with him again..._

_I wish you would say yes._

"...All right. All right. I'll...I'll convince him to come over. You're right...He has to talk with you."

_Thank you...Thank you, Wendy._

---

"...Kyle? Kyle, honey...?"

"Hm? What is it, Wendy? I'm trying to work."

"Kyle...You need to go and...You need to go talk with Stan."

"...Get out."

"Kyle, please, listen--"

"No. Get out now. Never use that name around me again. I have nothing left to do with him."

"Kyle, you have **everything** left to do with him! You two were super best friends at--"

"Shut UP, Wendy!! I don't want to hear **anything** about that goddamned bastard!!"

"...Kyle, just say yes."

"What? Why should I?!"

"Because you're missing a big part of you, and without Stan, you can never get it back."

"..."

"Kyle, please, you have to talk with him...Just say yes..."

"...Fine. Fine. I'll go, but if I end up getting hurt, then it's all your fault."

"Thank you, Kyle, thank you..."

---

"...What do you want?"

_...Kyle...!_

"What do you fucking want, Stan? You know, I was trying to forget about you. I almost did, too! Everything would have been better if you had just stayed out of my life and disappeared forever!! I don't need you anymore, not after you did bthat/b! So why the fuck are you still here?! Nothing will work anymore!!"

_...Kyle..._

"Don't you fucking get it?! I don't want to be with you anymore! I fucking cut you out of my fucking heart! So fuck off, Stan!!"

_..._

_'...Stan...?'_

"Kyle...Please...Listen to me."

"Why should I? Why should I?!"

"Just...Hear me out for once, please."

"Why fucking should I, Stan?!?!"

"Because we were soul mates once long ago."

"..._Fuck_. Fine. All right. I'll listen. What the fuck do you want?"

"...Please...Kyle..."

"...St-Stan...? Stan, what's wrong? Stan, don't cry, please..."

"Pl-Please, just say yes, Kyle..."

"To what?"

"...Please, let me be your friend again..._Please_..."

"...Do I really have a choice?"

_You have a choice..._

_But I want my best friend back._ Fuck_, it hurts..._

"...Yes."

"! R-Really...?"

"Yes. Fuck, Stan, you know that I can never stay mad at you forever. You were, as cheesy, corny, lame, and gay as it sounds, my soul mate. Dude, you still are my soul mate...No matter how much I try to run from it."

"...Kyle..."

_Thank you...Thank you..._

_I love you._

-x-x-x-

**Z is for Zest**

_To keep that friendship, I will do __anything__._

"Hey, Kenny, how good of a k-kisser are you?"

I honestly thought it was a joke.

"Hm, well, how good of a kisser do you want me to be?"

"Shut up, Kenny."

_God_, he has the most beautiful laugh I have ever heard...

"Why were you inquiring, my good Jewish friend?"

"Uh...I-I wanted to know if I could see if I was a good kisser...I've never really kissed anyone before..."

"Say no more, I'll help you out. For a good lunch, that is."

"It's a deal!"

His laugh was so tantalizing...I had to join in. But I really thought he was kidding.

That didn't put a damper on my zest to do it, though. God was laughing at me when he decided to give me such fuckable friends.

Yeah, I'd even do Cartman if it weren't for the Golden Rule.

His lips were soft, and my world exploded. This was a completely new feeling to me. I didn't believe in love, after all. And though inexperienced, he was an amazing kisser.

I was lost even after he broke away.

"...Well?"

"Huh?"

He obviously wasn't living in the same world I was.

"How was it?"

He really wanted to know. I wondered why with a smirk. "...Let me tell ya. If you go kiss anyone...Be prepared to get raped."

He laughed again. "That good?"

"Oh yeah. That good."

Laughing again. "Down boy. **Heel**."

"Oh, so now you want me to..."

"Heh, yeah, in a million years, Kenny."

"It's a date!"

I couldn't stop myself. It sounded like I was seriously not teasing, but I meant that.

"By the way, mind letting me in on who you want to impress with that hot kissing?"

"...You swear you won't tell? I'll kill you if you do, Kenny."

"Kyle, it's me. If anyone could keep a secret, I could."

And that's the truth.

"Okay...I trust you." A giggle, then silence. It really unnerves him. "...Stan."

I was, for once, thrown for a real loop. "Stan?!"

Screw the Golden Rule...

"I know, I know it's weird, and he's my best friend and all, but I couldn't help it. I really, really fell in love with him, and I couldn't snap myself out of it. Ever since we were eight--"

"Kyle, chill. I can keep that secret until you can tell him."

That grateful look could kill me if I hadn't already died a little. **Stan**. Of course it would be Stan. The two were so close, and had been since forever. They were still very unnaturally close, and that had set off an alarm in my brain.

My battle was lost before I could have even begun.

"...But if he dumps you, then let me know and I'll kick his ass."

"Kenny!"

"I could convert you yet, Kyle of the hot ass."

But I knew the truth. Stan had been crushing on Kyle since they were six.

I knew that they would get together no matter what.

Still, I had hoped that my zest would have come in handy.

Now, to distract myself, I could go after Butters...Yum.

-x-x-x-

_**F**__ is for __Finish__,_

_**I**__ is for __Innate__,_

_**N**__ is for __Nevermore__._


End file.
